“Thank you, ma’am.”
The stiff-faced woman curtseyed quickly to Darcy, and then left, maintaining a professional demeanor.
Elizabeth shrugged when she was gone. “I hardly know what to think of her. She seems much too formal for my tastes. But I do not know if it is required to be friends with my lady’s maid.”
“You are required,” Darcy replied, “to manage that matter in the way which will bring you the greatest happiness and satisfaction.”
“Useless, useless advice!”
Darcy grinned at her. He felt enormously happier now that they were in the same room together.
“She is a capable woman. This hair was done quickly, and it is beautiful—it is not quiteme. I suppose I would feel a little guilty if I do not hire a person simply because they are too fine for my taste.”
“Think nothing of that, I believe she would receive a quarter’s wages no matter how long she remains in our service.”
“And she knows quite well that this is a matter of a probationary service—and I would wager a great amount thatshewould find no difficulty getting an equally good position in quick order.” Elizabeth sighed. “I certainly shall not make any decision till most of our week in London is done. I never thought I would have my own maid, just for doing my hair and clothes.”
“You deserve everything,” Darcy said. He smiled at the thought. He was very happy that he could provide her servants and clothes, and the ability to make every choice she wished.
She touched his cheek briefly after he said that and looked deep into Darcy’s eyes. “I appreciate it.”
“Would you be unhappy if I came with you when you go out to purchase new clothes? I do wish to see what you shall select for yourself.”
“And to have your right to comment upon how fetching it is?” She smiled at him in a most fetching manner. Then she sighed and frowned.
“I do not need to attend you, if you would prefer to manage the task without any male company.”
“No, no. I only...” Elizabeth groaned and sat back down on the dressing stool. “I do not want to spend much on clothes. I positively hate the thought, and when I imagine standing in the private room of a fashionable modiste, draped with lace, silks, and expensive jewels, I feel more and more anxious. I don’t wish to. I do not wish to purchase any of them. Lord, why would I? What good do clothes do for anyone?”
“Warmth?”
Elizabeth giggled, and that made Darcy feel that flutter inside of himself again.
“I see that this is a serious matter for you,” he added. “Is it because of what you said that you could not sell the clothes for much money when Mr. Wickham abandoned you? You know that you will not find yourself in a similar situation again.”
Elizabeth curled one foot up onto the stool and frowned. “No, no. Mr. Wickham had delighted in choosing my clothing. He said that it showed that I belonged to him—I was delighted by the attention. By everything then. I belonged to him.”
“My eagerness to see you with new clothes reminds you of that?”
“Should it not? I perceive it in your manner. You like the idea that I will have been dressed by you, to your taste.”
“Is that wrong?” A little annoyance was in Darcy’s voice.
“No, no. I am not saying it is.”
“I like the thought of knowing you are well cared for. I like the thought that you can wear what you wish and be dressed as you deserve to be. I like being able to care for you. But you care for me. There is nothing wrong with that.”
“No. No, I do not mean there is. It is—Lord! It is hard to trust.”
She looked at him with pleading eyes. And even though the last thing she said had an interpretation that begged him to become frustrated with her, to feel as though she were treating him as if he was in some way like Wickham, Darcy instead studied her eyes.
Elizabeth’s beautiful face, and the way that her manner showed that she always needed help. He did notunderstandwhy she was made unhappy by the prospect of expensive clothes, while having a lady’s maid and travelling with a chaise and four did not upset her, but his goal was to care for her.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy let out a breath. “You need not dress in any way you do not wish. Do not pay attention tomyfeelings in this matter.”
“I do care for your feelings, a great deal,” Elizabeth replied. “I do.”
“I know.” He smiled at her.
